Greatest Hits, Volume One
by LJ9
Summary: A collection of seven five-sentence fics from prompts on Tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters here; they all belong to Rae Earl and E4. And the lyrics quoted belong to David Bowie and the Cure.

These prompts (presented here in a standardized format) were suggested by Mel, theresastoryhere, bluestdanube, and cagedbirdsing, and were originally posted on my tumblr. Thank you ladies for the inspiration!

* * *

Rae/Finn; quiet, soft, music

If he had been a poetic man he would have thought that the pair of them were in many ways a study in contrasts: his silence and hard angles against her gregariousness and yielding curves. Maybe to others they looked like a mismatched couple, but no one else knew what it was like lying next to her, whispering things he would never tell another soul. They didn't know the feeling of her fingertips writing lyrics down his back (_we can be heroes forever and ever_) as the stereo played as if from a great distance and he shivered under her touch. No one else understood the pleasure of rendering her speechless with a look or a word or a subtle gesture; no one else got to stroke her hair, her cheek, her lips, all pliant and warm and trembling. No one knew her the way he did, and if he had his way, no one else ever would.

* * *

Rae/Finn; therapy, understanding, snacks

She'd stormed out of the office and carried on stomping until she was out of the hospital; only then did she stop, dropping down to the bench. Her expression flickered between emotions too quickly for him to catalogue all of her feelings, but eventually he realised that she was fighting back tears, and that she didn't want him to see her cry. He stood, fishing in his pocket for change, and she looked not quite up but slightly sidelong at him.

"Want anything from the machine?" he asked, his own gaze falling to the hands clasped in her lap.

"Salt and vinegar crisps, please," she said, voice wavering just a bit, and he nodded, returning to the building to fetch her back some crisps and tissues.

* * *

Rae/Kester; friendship, boys, sessions

He wasn't always so lucky, but sometimes all he had to do was ask "So how's it going?" at the beginning of the hour and she would respond with an unrestrained torrent of thought and opinion and emotion. Those were his favourite days, when she felt so comfortable and open that she would tell him all about Chloe's new ("kinda-maybe") boyfriend who, while not quite up to being wholeheartedly accepted by the rest of the group, was much better than her previous ("absolute knobhead") boyfriend; with somewhat worrying glee she recounted every punch and insult from Chop's fight and near arrest on account of some ("totally pissed idiot") bloke's aggressive attempts to chat up Izzy. She ranted about Archie and his ("understandable, but still _really_ annoying sometimes") waffling about whether or not to come out, at least to the rest of the group, and about her mum and Karim's relationship ("There's just not enough room for a baby in that house, but of course I can't tell them that because you just _think_ the word 'baby' and they both go all disgustingly gooey-eyed at each other"). She obviously talked a lot about Finn—there was a lot of happy sighing and far-off, dreamy expressions when he was mentioned, but also a lot self-doubt that wasn't going to disappear just because she had a ("sweet, lovely, but clearly round the twist to be dating me") boyfriend.

From the exasperated look on her face as she walked in, Kester knew it was one of his lucky days, and smiled.

* * *

Rae/Finn; secret, shoulder, rain

The power's gone off in the storm, and they've lit candles around the pub, since no one can be induced to leave the warmth and brave the rain on their way home. Archie is playing someone's guitar and singing, and the others sit nearby, swaying tipsily. Finn's arm is wrapped around her and she closes her eyes, leaning into him, feeling the words he's tracing on her shoulder. The confession there makes her blush and bite her lip and nod, and he pulls her to her feet, away from the crowd and the light and toward the door. Outside she tips her face up to the darkest sky she's ever seen, until his warm hand is on her face and his lips find hers.

* * *

Rae/Finn; lonely, comfort, music

A sudden sick feeling blossoms in her stomach when Karim passes her the postcard, but the picture on it is of Blackpool, not anywhere in Scotland. Finn will be gone for another week and she can't stand it, even though she feels pathetic missing him so much. At least he seems to feel the same way: his scrawl on the back of the card reads_ Everything's crap without you _and at the bottom there are three kisses after his name, there for the postman and her mum and the whole world to see. She retreats to her room, slotting one of the many mixtapes he's made for her into the stereo, one that's got his voice, low and steady, between the tunes. She traces the confident way he's written her name and the Xs at the end, listening to Robert Smith deliver a message from Finn that  
_However far away, I will always love you  
However long I stay, I will always love you_  
_Whatever words I say, I will always love you_  
_I will always love you_.

* * *

Rae/Finn; gig, gang, scooter

The concert had been bloody amazing, loud and crowded and hot and electric, and when they spilled out of the club they were all drunk on camaraderie and good music. As Finn lit a cigarette, Chop jumped on Archie's back, singing in a voice already hoarse, and the girls looped their arms together, giggles making them bump into each other as they swayed along. When they finally reached where the car and scooter were parked next to each other, there was much affectionate hugging and kissing and "Drive safe, Chop!" and "Ring me tomorrow, alright, Rae?" Rae stood waving until the car had roared off, horn honking; when she turned to the scooter Finn was leaning on the seat, watching her with undisguised want. "I thought they'd never leave," he said, standing and pulling her to him, and it wasn't until much later that they started for home.

* * *

Rae/Finn; first time, nervous, reassuring

He knows she's nervous—she's said as much before—but his own hands are shaking against her skin, and before they go any further he hears himself saying, "Rae, I've never actually…"

"Bollocks you haven't!" she snorts, propping herself up on her elbows, looking pointedly at his bare torso, as if anyone so fit could possibly be a virgin.

He can't help but roll his eyes a little, but he leans over her, kissing the spot on her neck that makes her gasp and squirm, though he's sure the move only reinforces her belief that he's full of it. Then he pulls back to watch her expression when he meets her eyes and clarifies, "I've never done it with anyone I love before."

"You'd better get on with it, then," she says cheekily, but she can't hide the way her face lights up or the softness in her eyes; and that look is what makes him get on with it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters here; they all belong to Rae Earl and E4. Paul Anka wrote the lyric quoted.

This set prompted by orangeisthenewblue, dingdongwonderful, and anonymous.

* * *

Rae & Archie; beer, guitar, silver

"Right, now here," Archie directs, left hand wrapped around hers, sliding her fingers down the neck of the guitar, "that's a C." His hand is warm and faintly calloused from hours of practicing, strumming along to the radio, daydreaming of modest fame and artistic integrity if not outright rock stardom.

Rae strums gently; the resulting note is just a bit off, and she laughs, "I'm rubbish at this," pushing the instrument at him.

"If you don't practise, you'll never learn," he says, but takes the guitar and begins to play, the dim lights winking off the silver of the tuners. Rae sips her beer and leans back, eyes closed, listening, imagining someone falling in love with her Archie as he plays the guitar, a smile on his face.

* * *

Rae/Finn; puppy, music, rain

It would totally offend his dignity if he knew it, but she thinks he's like an adorable puppy sometimes: the expressive brown eyes that melt her heart, the energetic enthusiasm, the affectionate nuzzling. She's reading in bed with the radio playing quietly, love songs that she would deny listening to playing on the local station, when he climbs in the window and shakes cold rain from his hair, making her shriek (quietly, so her mum and Karim won't hear) and pull the blanket over her head to shield herself. He grins mischievously and crawls onto the bed, leaning over her and dragging the duvet off her face, dripping water onto her, and she squeals and halfheartedly tries to push him away. He lowers his head to push his cold, wet nose against her neck, and she gives up her book and the token resistance and strokes his hair. But she can't help giggling when a new song comes on and Donny Osmond starts to croon "_And they called it puppy love_," and though he doesn't quite understand, he smiles too as he kisses her.

* * *

Rae/Finn; sunset, sugar, sarcasm

When Chop had announced they'd all be going to the carnival Rae, in the throes of an epic row with her mum and with attitude to spare, had said, "Yeah, Chop, that's exactly what a bunch of teenagers want to do on a Saturday night"; he'd retorted, "Stuff it, Raemundo, you're goin' and you'll like it." And even though the place was full of screaming children and their harried parents, Chop had been right. The girls shared a huge cloud of candy floss as they watched the lads try to win stuffed animals from rigged games, and cheered when Archie succeeded, to the disgust of the carnie. By unspoken agreement they drifted apart in pairs as the sun set, the sky's soft glow no match for the whirling neon light of the rides. By the time she and Finn emerged from the Tunnel of Love, breathless and with the taste of sugar on both their tongues, Rae knew she owed Chop an apology and her thanks.

* * *

Rae/Finn; video camera, Dad, bruise

"Put the video camera away, Dad," Finn hissed, flushing bright red. He was glad his parents liked Rae and vice versa, but he wished they would be a little (a lot) less embarrassing sometimes (all the time).

"Don't you listen to him, Mr Nelson," Rae encouraged, and Finn rolled his eyes as his dad thanked her for being so sweet, unlike his son.

He sat next to her and slung an arm around her shoulders, lightly tracing _I hate you_ over the bruise he'd left on her collarbone; but she just smiled smugly and said, "Liar."

(Years later he'd find the tape and watch her laugh, 16 forever, and he'd feel endlessly grateful to his father.)

* * *

Rae/Finn; snow, sex, tears

_She'd fled from the stables into the house, not even pausing to remove her cloak, but he caught up with her in the library. _He will not move me_, she thought resolutely, staring out the window at the falling snow, _he will not sway me_; but as soon as Sir Finn touched her cheek to wipe away the tears she hadn't even known she'd shed, her determination crumbled._

"_I long to possess you, my lady," he whispered, a flame she had never seen before dancing in his eyes, a flame to which she was inescapably drawn, and she could not resist when he clutched her to his firm body, crushing her lips beneath his._

_When his hands lifted her skirt to explore her quivering flesh she gasped, "Not here," but then his skilled fingers found their goal and she moaned wantonly, "Yes, _there_."_

Right, there'd be no more reading romance novels before bed if she was going to have dreams like that and then wake up alone.

* * *

Rae & Chloe; love, sex, Finn

The sting of Finn's rejection had barely worn off when he and Rae had walked into the pub together, but Chloe managed to smile as the others congratulated them, though she wasn't at all looking forward to seeing them together.

But as time went on Chloe found that she couldn't feel jealous of Rae for ending up with Finn, because it was so right. She and Finn would have had attraction and heat and popularity, and they would have burned out quickly, falling into fights that divided their friends; but Rae and Finn were steady and devoted and happy, and Chloe knew that, no matter how she may have tried to convince herself, she'd never felt about anyone the way Rae felt about Finn and he about her.

When Rae finally confessed that she'd slept with him, Chloe didn't squeal giddily and demand to know the details; she just looked at the contented expression on Rae's face and, already knowing the answer, asked, "Was it good?"

"It was better than I dreamed it would be," Rae whispered, and Chloe smiled, reaching out to hook her pinky around her best friend's.

* * *

Rae/Finn; ocean, bear, bag

It was like the ocean: you knew what it looked and sounded like even if you'd never been there yourself, but you didn't really understand what it felt like until you were stood there with water swirling around your feet, the tang of salt filling your nose, sun flashing off the waves. It was almost too much to bear sometimes, knowing that you could be swept away at any moment, but being unwilling to step out of the tide, to lose the feeling of water cooling your feet, knowing that if it felt this good just to stand there it would feel immeasurably better to surrender yourself to the sea. To give in: to lie back and float, borne on the currents with no control over where they took you, like a carrier bag driven by the wind, and to float forever. Or to emerge from the ocean changed, now knowing what it was like to swim—sometimes struggling and swallowing saltwater and sometimes drifting in such bliss that even to breathe would be sacrilege—and swaying with the effort of having to hold yourself up alone.

He was ready to grab her hand and dive.


End file.
